A Black Diary
by The Artful Fox
Summary: Oneshot. Tom Riddle before and when he kills his father. Who was he really? What did he feel? Set in three parts. Rated because of murder of characters Please, R


**_I found this in an old note book. I have about ten of those, and I read through some of them today. I found this and wanted to type it in. It's three parts and about Voldemort before and when he kills his father. One reason is that I want to prove my friends wrong, they say I can never finish something I begin, but I think that by this I prove them wrong. After all it's a one shot. So Read and Review. _**

**_ I'm not Rowling. After all: A dream is a wish your heart makes... _  
**

**A Black Diary**

Tom Riddle was waiting in his room. Waiting for the summer holidays to be over, and a new school year to begin. Being around muggles, not allowed to perform magic was a real torture.

Tom decided to go for a walk, he closed the door behind him and found his way down the hall. Children were all avoiding him, moving away from him, all in silence. All but one little girl. Tom hardly noticed her, he just pushed her away.

Perhaps was he a little too violent. The girl fell into the wall and down to the floor. Seeing as she was a little girl, she couldn't be more than eight, she started to cry.

Two big, blue eyes full of tears. Tom didn't care, he just continued walking.

Suddenly two big arms pushed Tom into the wall and held him there. Tom looked at his his new enemy. A boy, perhaps sixteen or seventeen. He was big, higher than Tom, with two strong arms that could crush his victims easily.

It came… unexpected on Tom.

"Who are you who think you can harm my little sister!" the boy yelled. 'So that's the case,' Tom stared right into his eyes. "Let go of me," he commanded. The boy had no choice. He had to let go, at first.

Then, suddenly, Tom was pushed into the wall once again. "D'you know who I am?" he was asked, but didn't have time to answer. "I'm the oldest son from an old, rich family. My parents are dead but in a year we'll be out of here," he nodded towards his sister.

"But you are nothing. Who're your parents? Family connections? You have no good prospects for life, you are a nothing, and no one will ever know your name."

Finally Tom got serious, this new boy had found Tom's, no Voldemort's, desire. He sent him one hard glance and the boy started to twitch in pain. The next day a little girl was found dead.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was waiting for the students to arrive. He wanted to speak to one in particular. "Mr Riddle," he called with his eyes fixed upon a high, dark haired, pretty boy with Slytherin robes.

Tom noticed him and left his fellow Slytherins. "You wanted to speak to me Professor?" Tom said in a neutral, polite voice. "I heard about the girl who died," the professor said watching Tom's every move.

It annoyed Tom, but his pale face told Dumbledore nothing. "I hope you are alright, Tom," the professor said, noticing that the boy didn't want to meet his eyes. "It was a terrible shock of course. Poor girl, she wasn't familiar with the place and must have fallen into the ocean," Tom told him carefully.

"I hope you'll do fine, and if there's anything you want to tell me…" Dumbledore didn't finish the sentence, just looked at him with his blue eyes.

"Well, we better go in and join the rest."

That night Tom didn't sleep too well. Not that he normally did, but he was thinking about professor Dumbledore. He was certain that the man could look through his well rehearsed lies. He gave up on sleeping, got dressed and walked out in the common room.

He sat down and began on a book Lestrange had given him.

The first days went as expected, but on the fourth day something more unexpected happened.

Tom hadn't slept much in those four days. He'd discovered more about his family, the Gaunts. He knew who they were and more important: Where they were. He'd also read about more dark arts and had learnt spells that would get him expelled if he used them.

Third lessons that day was potions, a double lessons with the Gryffindors.

Perhaps it was the high temperature or all the smells that came from cauldrons all over the room, but whatever reason his head was aching badly. He left dizzy and tired, Malfoy noticed that something was wrong.

"Are you alright my lord?" he asked worried.

Voldemort barked, "I'm fine" and Malfoy couldn't say any more. Tom didn't feel any better as the lesson went on. Two Gryffindors, Potter and Weasly, if Tom wasn't mistaken, were making a lot of noise.

"Twenty minutes," professor Slughorn called and looked into more cauldrons. As he walked over to Tom and Malfoy the dark haired boy fell towards the desk.

Tom's head was hammering so hard that he couldn't stand it anymore. "Tom," Slughorn called, but no response.

The whole class were at their feet and worried about Tom.

A house on a hill, three people for dinner. A smaller house, more a cottage, with a woman in love, who was now dead. A dark room, a cellar, with a mere stream of light. A snake and Salazar Slytherin.

Tom woke up. Instead of opening his eyes he lay still and listened. There were students, Malfoy, Black, Lestrange, Crab, Goyle and Avery. All of his… friends.

He heard the nurse mutter angrily "those clever students never know when to put the books away. Studying instead of sleeping," she was next to him, with a potion he could smell.

He opened his dark eyes, "it's not that I don't want to sleep, I simply can't," he told her. Simultaneously as he was analysing the dream. "When can I leave?" he asked politely, "to night?"

She watched him, "normally I wouldn't let you go. At least not until tomorrow, but I trust you Mr Riddle" she let the sentence hang there in the air between them. "If you sleep until dinner and take my potion tonight, I will let you go. But you must drink it tonight as well." He smiled and nodded, "of course."

"And no books, or late reading for the next days," she said sharply. "I'll try to keep a distance from it," he said with a false smile, drank the potion and fell asleep.

Lestrange, one of the older boys immediately left the room "He gave me a message" and disappeared. 'Find out as much as possible on Salazar Slytherin' Voldemort's order was nagging on him.

As a prefect he had power, but he thought it would be best to leave Slughorn to Tom.

"Any news?" Tom asked as he left the hospital wing, totally unaffected. Black nodded, "a new invitation from the Slug Club," he began before Lestrange took over "and the books are on your bed, with marked pages and notes."

"Good" Tom said "that's all for now" and the others left him. "The Chamber of Secrets" he muttered as he headed for his dorm. And then he'd be off to meet Slubhorn.

"I have to say, Tom" Slughorn smiled "You know everything worth knowing around here," the boys laughed. "Not everything, I'm afraid professor" Tom answered with fake modesty. "Oh, well," Slughorn said having more cake. "It's a pity we don't know who your parents were, they must have been very gifted wizards."

Tom didn't answer this, just fell into his own plans.

* * *

The sixteen year old Tom Marvolo Riddle looked up at the threatening dark sky over him as he approached a little village. From where he stood, Tom could see a handsome manor on the hillside, all the way through the village underneath him.

The handsome boy stopped eyeing a little cottage. It was far from a pretty sight, and that was where Tom was headed. Inside was nothing better, a man sat in a chair and the confrontation began as soon as he eyed Tom. They spoke a little, and this man was also a wormtongue, this man was his uncle.

Morfus Gaunt told him that Marvolo was dead and also that Tom resembled a muggle called Tom Riddle. He got to know about his mother and the marriage, and he became upset. Upset on killing the one that had failed him and his mother. "I see" he spoke to his uncle.

He focused some of his magic and hit Morfus so he fainted, it was too easy, flicking your wand. He'd been able to do magic unspoken for over a year now. Tom bent down and took Morfus wand and ring, then he left out in the rain.

People could always swear afterwards that they'd seen a tall, dark haired boy going through the little town. He was a stranger and in this place everyone knew each other.

Some said he wore a black cloak, and others could tell it was Tom Riddle ready to kill himself and his parents. Tom's hair clinging to his face as the rain soaked him in water. He'd now reached the kitchen door on the back of the house.

The boy wasn't sure but it felt like someone was watching, he looked around. No one there. He opened the door and entered a busy kitchen where dinner was being prepared. None of the cooks saw him as he walked further inside.

It wasn't hard to find the right room. Three laughing adults. Tom lingered on the doorstep. He just stared at the man that was his father. After a little while they noticed him. Tom Riddle senior's eyes met his son's.

"If you are selling something you know where to find the door," he said.

Tom breathed angrily, his grandmother looked at him. "He looks just like you, Tom." Tom sr. asked, "Who are you?" the boy looked cold up at him. "I'm Tom Marvolo Riddle," they all gasped.

"Get out of here and take those silly jokes with you!" his grandfather yelled. "Don't order me!" Tom said cold as ice he got his wand out "Cruccio" the old Riddle fell off his chair twitching in pain. "Stop it!" the old Mrs Riddle yelled terrified.

Tom flicked his wand and it stopped. "You're her son," Tom sr. Whispered. "And yours," Tom pointed his wand at him. "You left her, didn't you? Because she was a witch. She died because of you and left me in an orphanage," his left hand was clutching around the wand.

"She even gave me your name, and I hate you for it all. You left me alone, not caring what happened to any of us," now Tom had problems in holding back his tears. His whole life he'd wanted a father, a great and powerful wizard, not a simple muggle.

Tom Riddle sr. was shocked "she tricked me, she… bewitched me with some of her love potion." Tom flicked his wand "Avada Kadavra" a flash of green light and Mrs Riddle fell dead to the ground.

Mr Riddle rode to his feet "What have you done to her?" he checked her pulse." She's dead," he whispered terrified. Tom flicked his wand and another flash and green light filled the room. Old Mr Riddle fell to the ground next to his wife, his expressions showing pure terror.

"No!" Tom's father yelled. Voldemort now pointed his wand at him. "No please," he whispered and stepped back. "Please…" Tom jr. showed no mercy. "It's too late," he said in a cold voice. "Sixteen years too late," once more the crucciatus curse filled the room, and stopped.

"Please, I beg of you," the older Tom Riddle whispered to his son down from the ground. One part of Tom wanted to forgive his father. The weak part, the part that was on the edge of crying, the part that was more Tom Riddle than Voldemort. Could he forgive his father and live with him as nothing had happened? No, he definitely could not. He had to erase the week side of himself! Be stronger and more powerfull!

"Please" another whimper from the floor. "Have mercy!" but that was not one of Tom Marvolo's strongest feelings. "Avada Kadavra" his voice, still echoing in Tom's own ears as the father he'd never known fell to the ground.

Tom assumed that one of the girls in the kitchen would soon appear in the door, so he left never to look back on what he'd just done. As he walked past a telephone table (how stupid it was to communicate through something like that) and noticed a book. He picked it up.

A new black diary lay in is hands, on the back read "Tom Riddle," was it a present? Tom took it with him, he hadn't lost the habit of taking trophies from his victims.

**_What d'you recon? Too short? Well, review and tell me your opinnion. I expect feedback even though it's a short story:) _**


End file.
